The Thief Lord

"Really?" Bo sniffed loudly and buried his face in Victor's coat. "I was angry," he mumbled. "Esther wouldn't tell me where Prosper was."



"Well, well." Victor pushed his handkerchief into Bo's dirty hands. "Here. Blow your nose. Prosper's fine. He's probably lying in a soft bed dreaming of his little brother right now."



"She wanted to make a part in my hair," Bo muttered. He ran his hands over his messy thatch as if wanting to make sure that Esther's efforts had been in vain. "She wouldn't let me jump on the bed and she wanted to throw away the sweater Hornet gave me and she told me off because there was a little stain" -- Bo indicated the size with his fingers -- "and she kept wiping my face. And she said horrible things about Prosper."



"Did she really?" Victor shook his head with deep sympathy.



Bo rubbed his eyes and yawned. "I'm cold," he said quietly. "Can you take me to Prosper, Victor?"



Victor nodded. "I will," he said. But just as he was about to lift him up, Bo ducked between the seats.



"There's someone there!" he whispered.



Victor turned around.



A man was standing in the door to the lobby. He was shining a huge light into the auditorium. "What are you doing in there?" he called out with a rasping voice when the spotlight stopped on Victor.



Victor got up. "The boy's kitten ran away," he said calmly, as if he found nothing strange about being in a shut-down movie theater in the middle of the night. "He thought it came in here, through the emergency exit. The movie theater is closed down, right?"



"Yes, but the owner, Dottor Massimo, has asked me to keep an eye on the place. Just the other day two street kids were picked up here. Behind you there..." the man waved with his light, "... is that a child?"



"Well observed!" Victor stroked Bo's damp hair. "But this one is no street-kid. This is my son. As I said, he was just looking for his kitten." Victor looked around. "This is a beautiful movie theater. Why was it closed?"



The man shrugged. "Dottor Massimo wants to turn it into a supermarket, after all the trouble he's had with it. Could you please leave now. There are no kittens here, and even if there were, they'd be dead by now. I put down some rat poison."



"We've gone already!" Victor pushed Bo toward the emergency exit.



"The curtain," he said suddenly. "Look, Victor, they pulled it down."



The heavy fabric lay on the floor, crumpled and dirty.



"What are you going to do with the curtain?" Victor called to the guard who was about to disappear into the lobby.



The man turned around reluctantly. "Listen, it's late!" he called. "Why don't you just leave with your little one. Take the curtain, if you're so interested."



"And how are we supposed to do that?" Victor grumbled.



Then he pulled a penknife from his pocket and cut a large piece out of the embroidered fabric. "Here," he said as he pushed it into Bo's hand. "A souvenir."



"Is Scipio at Ida's as well?" Bo asked as they finally stepped through the emergency exit.



"No," Victor replied, as he wrapped the boy in the blanket he'd wisely brought with him. Then he lifted Bo up in his arms. "He's probably at home. I don't think he's very popular with your friends right now."



"But his daddy's horrible," Bo mumbled. He had trouble keeping his eyes open. "You're much nicer."



He wrapped his short arms around Victor's neck and squeezed his face against his shoulder. He was already fast asleep when they reached the Accademia Bridge. And so Victor carried him through the silent and empty alleys all the way to Ida Spavento's house.



42 Safety



Ida opened the door herself. She was wearing a bright red dressing gown and her eyes were bloodshot. Behind her stood Hornet, Mosca, and Riccio. They all stared at Victor as if they had been expecting someone else.



"What's going on here?" he whispered as he pushed past them with the sleeping Bo in his arms.



"That's Bo!" Hornet cried out in surprise.



"Yes, this is Bo," Victor grumbled, "and he's quite heavy. Now would you please all get out of my way so I can put him down somewhere?"



They all drew back quickly and Ida walked ahead of Victor up the steep stairs to the room where she had put the children. With a sigh, Victor placed Bo on one of the beds, tucked him into another blanket, and then crept out of the room. Hornet, Mosca, and Riccio were at the door. Only then did Victor realize that someone was missing.



"Where's Prosper?" he asked.



"That's why we're all up at this hour," Ida answered in a weary voice. "Caterina woke me an hour ago because he wasn't in his bed. We searched everywhere," she whispered. "In the house, the courtyard, we even looked for him on the Campo. He's nowhere to be found."



She looked at Victor expectantly, as if he could conjure up Prosper like he'd magicked Bo out of nowhere.



"Come on, let's not stand around here," Ida said quietly. "The little one doesn't have to find out till tomorrow that his brother has vanished. And Victor probably has a lot to tell us."



The living room was cold. Ida usually only heated the bedrooms a little at night. So Victor lit a fire and as they all huddled together in front of the flames they soon felt warm. Bo's kittens climbed down from the wardrobe into the heat and rubbed against them with quiet purrs. Then Victor explained how Esther had woken him up and how he had found Bo. He found it hard to concentrate on his story as his thoughts kept returning to Prosper. Where could the boy be?



"What's that supposed to mean: SHE doesn't want him back?" Ida's voice startled him out of his worries. "What on earth is she thinking of? The boy isn't like a shoe that she can try on and then throw away again because it doesn't fit her." She angrily searched her dressing gown for cigarettes.



"How should I know what Esther Hartlieb thinks?" Victor growled. He rubbed his eyes. "I only know that I was looking forward to seeing Prosper's face when I delivered his brother to him. And now I'm here and Prosper is gone. Darn it!"



He scolded the three children. "Couldn't you have kept an eye on him? You all saw what a mess he was in."



"What?" Mosca cried indignantly. "So we should have tied Prosper to his bed, should we?"



Hornet began to sob. Her tears dripped on to the huge nightshirt Ida had given her.



"There, there," Ida said, taking Hornet into her arms. "What should we do? Where could we look for Prosper? Any ideas?"



"He's probably standing in front of the Sandwirth again!" Mosca said.



"And he doesn't even know that his aunt is no longer staying there," grumbled Victor. "I'll call the night porter and ask him if he's seen a boy hanging around the hotel."



With a sigh he pulled his phone from his coat pocket and punched in the number of the Sandwirth. The night porter was just about to end his shift, but he did Victor a favor and looked out of the window. There was no boy on the empty Riva degli Schiavoni. Victor put his phone away again. He was at a loss.



"I need a nap," he said, getting up from the sofa. "Just a couple of hours, so I can think straight again. One brother is back, the other is gone," he moaned. He massaged his forehead. "What a night! I keep having nights like this lately. Is there an empty bed for me anywhere in this house?"